Not bothering to say good-bye to Roland or the girls, he strode out of the Great Hall. He had better, more important things to worry about than what Mia felt for his friend. He was the Crown Prince of the largest empire in the world. His entire existence was bound to the crown and the glass throne that would someday be his. She’d ended things because of that crown and throne— because she wanted a freedom he could never give her.“Christopher ,” someone called as he entered the hallway. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Mia . She caught up to him, easily matching the brisk pace he hadn’t realized he’d set. He didn’t even know where he was going, only that he needed to get out of the Great Hall. She touched his elbow, and he hated himself for savoring the touch.“What do you want?” he asked.They passed beyond the busy halls and she tugged on his arm, slowing him down. “What’s wrong?”“Why would anything be wrong?”How long have you been yearning for him? was what he really w
His training with the assassins must have paid off, because Christopher was across the carriage and brandishing a hidden dagger between them before she could blink. “Please,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling in uneven patterns. “Please, Laena.” She opened her mouth, ready to explain everything, but he was gasping down breaths, his eyes wide. “I can pay you.”A small, wretched part of her was fairly smug at the sight of him cowering. But she held up her hands, showing him she was unarmed—at least as far as he could see. “The king thinks you’re part of a rebel movement that’s interrupting his agenda.”A harsh, barked laugh—so raw that none of the smooth, lovely man was even recognizable in the sound. “I’m not part of any movement! Wyrd damn me, I might be a whore, but I’m not a traitor!” She kept her hands where he could see them, and opened her mouth to tell him to shut up, sit down, and listen. But he went on. “I don’t know anything about a movement like that—I haven’t even h
She knocked once, then opened the door to Bolton ’s bedroom just wide enough to peer in. He was standing frozen before the fireplace, as if he’d been in the middle of pacing.“I thought you’d be asleep,” she said, slipping inside. “It’s past twelve.”He folded his arms across his chest, his captain’s uniform rumpled and unbuttoned at the collar. “Then why bother stopping by? I thought you weren’t coming home tonight, anyway.”She pulled her cloak tighter around her, her fingers digging into the soft fur.She lifted her chin. “Turns out Christopher wasn’t as dashing as I remembered.Funny how a year in New York City can change the way you see people.”His lips tugged upward, but his face remained solemn. “Did you get the information you wanted?”“Yes, and then some,” she said. She explained what Christopher had told her (pretending that he’d accidentally given her the information, of course). She explained the rumors surrounding the lost heir of Terrasen, but left out the bits about Ae
Mia didn’t get a meal, or take a bath, or see a healer for her shoulder. Instead, she hurried to the dungeon, not even looking at the guards that she passed. Exhaustion ripped at her, but fear kept her moving, almost sprinting down the stairs.They want to use me. They tricked me, Kaltain had said. And in Christopher ’s book of Adarlan’s noble lineages, the Rompier family had been listed as one with a strong Skills al line, supposedly vanished two generations ago.Sometimes I think they brought me here, Kaltain had said. Not to marry Perrington, but for another purpose.Brought Kaltain here, the way Maximus had been brought here. Maximus , of the White Fang Mountains, where powerful shamans had long ruled the tribes.Her mouth went dry as she strode down the dungeon hallway to Kaltain’s cell.She stopped in front, staring through the bars.It was empty.All that was left inside was Mia ’s cloak, discarded in the kicked-up hay.As if Kaltain had struggled against whoever had come to ta
“It’s an anagram,” she panted as she reached the tomb.Mort opened an eye. “Clever, wasn’t it? To hide it right where everyone could see?”Mia eased open the door just wide enough to slip inside. The moonlight was strong, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw precisely where it fell. Trembling, she stopped at the foot of the sarcophagus and traced her fingers over the stone letters. “Tell me what it means.”He paused, long enough for her to take a breath to start yelling at him, but he then said, “I Am the First.”And that was all the confirmation she needed.The first Wyrdkey of the three. Mia moved around the stone body, her eyes on Elena’s sleeping face. As she looked upon those fine features, she whispered the words.In grief, he hid one in the crownOf her he loved so well,To keep with her where she lay downInside the starry cell.She lifted shaking fingers to the blue jewel in the center of the crown. If this was indeed the Wyrdkey … what would she do with it? Would s
MOTION IN WHITEThe cut on her arm throbbed, but Mia kept her hand steady as she dipped her finger again into her blood and traced the Troops on the wall, copying the symbols in the book with perfect precision. They formed an archway—a door—and her blood gleamed in the light of the candles she had brought.It had to be perfect—each symbol had to be flawless, or else it wouldn’t work. She kept pressing on the wound to keep it from clotting. Not everyone could harness the marks; no, The Walking Dead said there had to be power in the blood to do it. Maximus had clearly had some trace of power. That must be why the king had rounded up Kaltain and Roland, too. He’d used the keys to suppress Skills , but he must have some way of harnessing the innate power in someone’s blood—and the Troops s must be able to access that power, too.She drew another symbol, nearly finished with the archway.Their power could warp things. It had warped Maximus . But it had also allowed him to summon the ridder
Mia had Damaris drawn and leveled at Hobbs in a heartbeat. Fleetfoot growled at him, but kept back, a step behind Mia .“What are you doing here?” It was inconceivable that he’d be here. How had he gotten in?“I’ve been tracking you for weeks,” Hobbs said, eyeing the dog. “Nehemia told me about the passages, showed me the way in. I’ve been down here almost every night since she died.”Mia glanced at the portal. If Nehemia had warned her not to open the portal, then she was certain her friend didn’t want Hobbs seeing it, either. She moved to the wall, keeping well away from the blackness as she ran her hand over the glowing green marks, making to wipe them away.“What are you doing?” Hobbs demanded.Mia pointed Damaris at him, furiously wiping at the marks. They didn’t budge. Whatever this spell was, it was far more complex than the one that had sealed the library door—merely swiping away the marks wouldn’t undo it. But Hobbs now stood between her and the book where she had the closing
She reached out a hand as if to grab his, but lowered it—making her face tender and soft and bittersweet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have been working toward this for weeks. We could have tried to solve the riddle together. If I’d known what Nehemia was going to do, how she could lie to me again and again … She betrayed me. In every possible way, Hobbs . She lied to my face, made me believe …” Her shoulders slumped. After a long moment, she took a step toward him. “Nehemia was no better than Arobynn or Clarisse in the end. Hobbs , you should have told me. About everything. I knew it wasn’t Mullison—he wasn’t smart enough. If you’d told me, I could have taken care of it.” A risk—a leap of faith. “For you … For us, I would have taken care of it.”But Hobbs gave her a hesitant smile. “She spent so much time complaining about Councilman Mullison that I knew he’d be the easiest one to blame. And thanks to that competition, he already had a connection to Grave.”“Grave didn’t